


Good Person

by gaiidre



Series: heroes (who aren't great at their jobs) [4]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Blood and Injury, Death, Graphic Description, JAMES IS A FUCKING MESS, clonelius will be missed, dont do murder kids, just be careful, meanwhile james has a tiny breakdown over it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:01:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26358385
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gaiidre/pseuds/gaiidre
Summary: James finally came back home after weeks, but there's still the clone of him that he needed to get rid of. You'd think that'd be a fairly simple task.
Series: heroes (who aren't great at their jobs) [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712446
Comments: 4
Kudos: 5





	Good Person

The wind rustled the orange leaves, blowing them off the trees. A leaf fell onto the ground, making a satisfying crunch as it got stepped on. In the dark of night moved a shadow, the full moon offering glimpses of its form as it swiftly ran through the quiet streets of New Spring. James had returned from his trip and was now on the hunt for his clone. He never thought he would ever have to kill a copy of himself, yet there he was, scouting the alleyways and bars, a dagger in hand. 

With a sigh, he sat down on a roof that he managed to climb onto. He frowned, looking down at the empty streets below him, which he had been running through back and forth, for hours, with no luck. Curse his stealth and unpredictability. The clone did not have to inherit that. 

The thought of the clone possibly being back at the Guild crossed James' mind, but he soon dismissed it. If the clone was even a little like James, there was no way it would be asleep at this hour.

A fter the small break, James stretched, getting ready to continue his search as he saw a glimpse of movement down in the streets. He focused his eyes at the person, a content smile forming once he realised who it was. Or, more accurately, what it was. The clone wandering the streets in the cold autumn night, with no real destination in mind. James stood back up and followed the clone from the rooftops, eager to finally finish the whole ordeal. A spark of excitement passed through him at the thought of seeing the others again. It had been a little too long.

Once James caught up to the clone, he dropped a coin down one of the alleyways, way too aware of his own curiosity. As predicted, the clone stopped at the clinking sound of the coin hitting the stone ground. With some hesitation, it entered the alleyway to check out what was causing the noise. In the meantime, James jumped off the roof into the open street, casting Feather Fall before his feet hit the ground, for a fast, yet soft landing.

He glanced down the alleyway as he took his bow from around him, an arrow in hand. His eyes fixated on the clones' back, it occupied with investigating the source of the sound.  _ Alright. _ James thought.  _ One good shot. One good shot and you are done. _ He drew the bow, pulling the string back and aiming at the clone. He tried not to think about how the clone was in a way a person. How he was about to shoot, in a way, himself. How, the person he was about to kill was him, a literal copy of himself, of how people perceived him. He watched himself- the clone kneel in the alleyway, saying hello to a lost, stray cat. 

James hesitated, for a moment, for a second, two seconds, three.

He turned away and leaned on a wall, lowering his bow. _Fuck. This was so weird, so awfully weird and disturbing and just- fuck no._ Couldn't Eriaki make it easier for him? To have the clone disappear into smoke once he wasn't needed anymore? Disappear on command, have a phrase or a word that would make him gone, so he wouldn't have to deal with this. He heard a loud hiss from the alleyway, followed by stumbling and a giggle. The other him said something about there being no need to be so aggressive, as well as having food to offer. 

James took a deep breath, drawing his bow again.  _ It's not difficult; aim, release, done. _ He turned back to look into the alleyway from around the corner, pointing the arrow at the clone. He took another deep breath, shakier than he would've liked. _Now just release. Release, c'mon, one, two three-_

It hit, but just barely. A deep slash cut through the clones side, making it bleed and soaking his clothes in thick blood. He- no, _it_ , staggered backwards, scaring the black cat away. It looked up, meeting James' eyes. James froze, taken aback by how familiar the clones' eyes were, how real and full of life they looked. Was the clone a person after all? Would killing him count as a murder?

A line of blue, roaring flame shot at James, catching him off guard. He stumbled back, hissing in pain as his whole body got engulfed in the fire. _What the fuck?_ In an attempt to fight back, James tried to hurl a firebolt back, but the clone dodged, though scarcely. 

Without a word, the clone fired a large fireball at James. James attempted to dodge, but his right arm got caught up in the flames nonetheless, making him hiss out a row of curses. With his healthy hand, James pulled out his dagger from its holster, the sharpest one he's got, and threw it at the clone. This time it hit dead-on, getting stuck in his throat as the copy fell to his knees. 

James stood in shock as he watched the copy of him choke on the blade, struggling to use whatever energy he had left to pull it out, but with no avail. The clone let out, what James assumed to be a choked up cry as he fell to the ground, hands still around the handle. Their eyes met once more, and James was taken aback by the pure fear in them. And he watched, mesmerised, as life slowly drained from those blue eyes of his.

The dripping echoed through the alleyway. It's loud once there are no sounds left to drown it out.  _ Drip. Drip. Drip.  _ James's frozen in place, unable to move, as if interrupting the gentle sound of dripping would make it too real. This wasn't real, right? It must be a dream. He watched as his own body lay there, motionless. The moonlight didn't reach his face, merely lighting up the blood on the ground, which was painting the stone path red. _I wonder, will that stain?_

James took a reluctant step towards the body, trying to examine it. Maybe he's not dead? He could've just passed out, right? As he approached the body, he stepped into the pool of blood surrounding it, startling himself and stumbling a step back. His eyes wandered to the dagger, which was buried deep in the clone's neck, going right through the fabric of the turtleneck. The handle was smudged with red from the clone trying to pull the dagger out. The turtleneck was soaked in blood, which steadily dripped into the pool beneath. The sight made James nauseous, and he had to look away. 

He took a deep breath. Surely, the clone had to disintegrate, turn into ash or dust or smoke or  _ something _ . Once he'll look back, the clone would be gone, like it never existed in the first place, right? It had to. There was no other way. It wasn't real, it couldn't  _ die _ like a normal person, it must've just disappeared once it was not needed anymore, right?

When James looked back at the spot, the corpse of the clone was still there, unmoving, dead. And once he realised that it wasn't going anywhere, it dawned on him. He  _ killed _ someone, murdered him in cold blood, all for what? The thought made James dizzy, nauseous, uneasy. He started pacing, rubbing at his neck in an attempt to let some of his nerves out. " _ Oh _ , I've fucked up now." A thought crossed James’ mind, about how he’ll have to get rid of the body himself, how he couldn't leave it here, just for it to be found the next morning.

He sat down, a good couple of meters away from the corpse. He tried not to pay attention to the gory scene next to him, but as sickening as it was, it was hard not to look when it was  _ right there.  _ A certain numbness washed over James as he observed the body from afar. Shock, perhaps? From a distance, he examined as the blood trailed down the clone's neck, how it dripped down into the red pool beneath it, painting the stone a sickening red. He examined the now even darker, ripped up fabric of the turtleneck. The bright freckles, barely shining through the layer of thick blood. The sharp dagger, deep in its throat, reflecting the moonlight.

James was unsure for how long he sat there, staring, mind blank. Could've been a couple of minutes, could've been over an hour. Did it really matter? "No point in putting it off, I suppose," he murmured to himself as he stood up from the cold ground. He approached the corpse again, standing and looking over it once more. The features of his own face were weird to look out, mesmerising almost. It was like looking into the mirror if the mirror showed you how you'd look if you were brutally killed. He hoped his inevitable death won't be this bad. 

His eyes wandered to the dagger. He crouched down and gently got a hold of it, cringing at the wet, sticky feeling. He gulped and pulled it upwards in an attempt to pull it out. Instead, though, the neck of the clone got lifted up with the dagger. That, paired with the unsettlingly moist sound of flesh and blood, made James snap back to reality, stronger than before. With a cry, he quickly let go, stumbling backwards. Tears started spilling without warning as he sat there, staring at the blood a couple of feet before him. 

The head of the dead clone turned from the movement, now staring right back. James curled up on himself, hugging his knees as quiet sobs escaped him. The blood continued to drip without a rhythm.  _ Drip. Drip. Drip. _

He just wanted to go home.

The tears stop, eventually, leaving James shaky and drained. Once he dared to peek at the corpse, it was still there, facing him, as if waiting. He gulped and let out a shaky breath. He had to finish the job, and he knew it. " _ I really don't want to, though,"  _ he murmured to himself, his voice hoarse.  _ But y _ _ ou have to. _

After some internal bickering, James finally got himself to suck it up and stand up. His eyes stayed glued on the clone. He had for a moment forgotten how much it looked like him. 

"Okay, you got this, Jamie. This shouldn't be hard. Just start with getting the dagger out, easy," James said, attempting at giving himself a pep talk. "You can figure out the rest later. You can do this, this isn't a  _ real _ person so you're fine, everything's  _ fine."  _

He crouched down once more, this time avoiding looking at its face.  _ Just focus on the dagger. _ He carefully grabbed the handle, his handprint visible from his previous attempt. With some hesitation, he gently held down the neck with two fingers, the fleshy feeling making him sick. With a deep, shaky breath, he pulled the knife out, which resulted in more blood to ooze out from the now open wound. At the sight of it, he gagged, quickly standing up and taking a couple of steps back, away from it all. At least he could be happy that all the blood covered the fleshy inside.

James examined his dagger, turning it in his hand. With his less bloody hand, James rummaged through his bag, pulling out his waterskin. He poured some water on the dagger and tried to rub off as much blood as he could with his sleeve, before putting it away.  With a content sigh, he looked back at the body. The only thing left was to get rid of it. He couldn't do anything  _ here,  _ though _ ,  _ that was too risky. Which meant he needed to get it somewhere else. Which meant he had to carry it. A shiver ran down James' spine at the thought of that.

James paced back and forth, brainstorming ideas on what to do with the body, and how to get the least amount of blood on himself while doing it.  With some difficulty, James managed to get the cloak off of the clone, ripping it up with his dagger. With the smaller piece of cloth, he bandaged up the clone's neck, and with the large piece - its torso. He poured water over the leftover fabric and used it to wipe as much blood off of himself as he could. Now, to get out of New Spring and get rid of the body. 

The moon shined brightly, the blood pool reflecting it beautifully. The red puddle rippled as the corpse got slowly dragged away.

The sun started to steadily rise, painting the sky with reds, oranges and yellows. Old Spring ruins lighted up in soft, warm light. 

James dropped a pile of twigs and branches into the large campfire. The clone lay in the middle of it, the blood now more of a brown, it was long dried. James sighed as he dusted off his hands and began subconsciously heating them up. His eyes wandered to the body of the clone, now buried under the wood. He observed his face, pale and lifeless. Is that really how he was going to look one day? He wasn't sure what conclusion he had to come to from that. Not like he had a choice in such a thing, anyway.

A humble, light blue flame sparked up in his hand, warm and steady. He moved to set fire to the wood but hesitated for a moment. Was this the smart thing to do? It felt... wrong. Going to such lengths to get rid of the body made it feel too real, like he did something horrible that he had to hide. It made it too  _ personal _ . Made him too aware that  _ he _ was responsible. He was responsible for the death of someone. Someone who was no danger to him. Someone who wasn't a threat in any way. He killed him in cold blood, with no mercy. The blue flame grew unsteady, brighter, hotter, before going out entirely. 

James started pacing around the empty ruins, feeling panic gradually build up. “I- I  _ murdered  _ someone,” he murmured to himself, running a hand, now covered in patches of dried blood, through his hair. "Does that- does that make me what Delearys says I am? No, right? It was justified, right?" His voice started to feel more and more choked up as his vision started to blur. _Was it?_

He sat down on a large stone, that looked like it maybe could've once been a wall. He didn't even realise as he started subconsciously bouncing his leg and rubbing at his neck, trying to calm his nerves. “Is it morally okay to kill your own clone, even though it  _ technically _ wasn't doing any harm? It is, right?” Chocolate Sprinkles escaped from one of James pockets, crawling onto James' still leg. James glanced at his familiar. "It  _ has _ to be, right? It's not a  _ real _ person so it  _ has _ to be fine, because if I'm wrong about that, that leaves me- that leaves me a murderer Delearys and Faerryn believe me to be, and I'm- I'm  _ not that,  _ I can't  _ possibly _ be that, I'm a  _ good person _ , right? I- I can't be bad, I must be good, I-" James choked up on a sob, only now realising the wet tears streaming down his face. 

Chocolate Sprinkles crawled onto James' shoulder, as he's so used to by now, and let out a small squeak, bumping his little head on James' wet cheek. Not getting a response, he let out a louder squeak, paired with another bump on the cheek. This time it caught James' attention, and he glanced over at the tiny mouse. Chocolate Sprinkles squeaked again and curled up by James' neck, trying to press himself as close to him as possible for comfort. James let out a wet chuckle, wiping at his cheeks with his sleeve. "Good to know _you're_ at least here for me, hm?" he whispered, petting Chocolate Sprinkles with his finger. He glanced back at where the campfire was, frowning. Wiping at his eyes again, James stood up. "Let's just get this over with."

The sky was a beautiful blue, the clock struck eight just a couple of minutes ago. The town was beginning to get into the swing of the day as everyone rose from their slumber. James stood in front of the Guild and tried his best to get all the soot and blood off of himself, though he soon learned it wasn't as easy of a task as he thought. He wasn't sure how he was going to explain the smell of smoke either. He'll have to come up with something. If he were to tell the truth to Delearys or Faerryn, he doubted it would end well. With a deep breath, James slowly opened up the door. 

This was going to be complicated.


End file.
